


No Rush

by someonestolemyshoes



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: KageHina - Freeform, M/M, Rimming, Third Year KageHina, dorks being dorks, that's it that's the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-26
Updated: 2017-01-26
Packaged: 2018-09-20 03:29:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9473429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/someonestolemyshoes/pseuds/someonestolemyshoes
Summary: “Take your pants off, I wanna try something.”This is how Hinata is greeted upon letting himself into Kageyama’s bedroom. It’s not quite the hello he’d expected; no insults, for starters, which he supposes is a bonus, but he’d also sort of hoped for maybe a, “hi,” or even a, “you’re late, idiot,” but today, it seems Kageyama is wasting no time at all.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So I accidentally wrote a rimming fic a couple of days ago and I posted it to tumblr, and you're all filthy beasts so I thought I'd put it on ao3 for the rest of you hungry horrors to read pls enjoy

“Take your pants off, I wanna try something.”

This is how Hinata is greeted upon letting himself into Kageyama’s bedroom. It’s not quite the hello he’d expected; no insults, for starters, which he supposes is a bonus, but he’d also sort of hoped for maybe a, “hi,” or even a, “you’re late, idiot,” but today, it seems Kageyama is wasting no time at all.

“Hello to you too,” Hinata says, tossing his bag in the corner. Kageyama’s room is always so _neat_ , all clean and tidy and there are never any worn socks or underwear on the floor ever, and most weekends, Hinata feels a little like a hurricane passing through. Already, with his bag in one corner and his jacket landing in another, the empty space is starting to look cluttered.

“Pants,” Kageyama says. He’s sitting cross-legged on the bed, hands wrapping his ankles, eyes trained on Hinata as he pads over the carpet and settles on the mattress.

“Hello,” he tries again. Kageyama rolls his eyes and shoves the quickest, most boring kiss to Hinata’s lips in greeting. Hinata grins, and crosses his legs, too.

It’s not totally unusual for Kageyama to be in a rush. In fact, it’s…pretty normal, an everyday occurrence, but there is something _ansty_ in the bounce of his knees and the way he brings his thumb to his lips to chew on the nail that makes Hinata frown.

“Why the rush, huh?”

“No rush,” Kageyama says, which is maybe the most bold-faced lie he’s ever told, ever.

“ _Take off your pants_ ,” Hinata says, flattening his fringe and pulling his brows so low he can barely see past them. In his tiny little window of vision he sees Kageyama scowl, and the faintest, pinkest blush lights up on his cheeks.

“I don’t sound like that.”

“You literally sound _exactly_ like that.”

Kageyama grinds his teeth, and swipes a big, open palm at Hinata’s hair. He ducks, and he snickers, and he settles to lean back on his palms, cocking his head at Kageyama.

“You’re like…super in a hurry today,” he says. “What, your parents aren’t gonna be back again, are they?”

“ _No_ ,” Kageyama says, and Hinata watches the shudder roll up his back and over his shoulders. Good, he thinks, that’s good, because the last thing they need is for Kageyama’s mother to barge through the bedroom door completely unannounced for the _third_ time this month. “No, I’m just—I read some…stuff, today, and I wanna try it.”

Hinata narrows his eyes and tucks his knees to his chest.

“This isn’t like the thing with the smelly massage oils, right? Because I pooped fire for like three days and—”

“ _No_ , oh my god.” Kageyama buries his face in his hands and shakes his head. Hinata can see the tips of cherry red ears, and it’s a little funny, seeing Kageyama embarrassed, but honest truth the memory of the Unsuccessful Massage Venture is still a little too raw to laugh at just yet.

“And it’s not gonna be anything weird? Because I like you a lot, but not enough to like…call you daddy or anything—”

“—shut up, please shut up.”

Hinata does, and Kageyama peeks out from between his fingers. It shouldn’t be cute, not even a little bit, because a) Kageyama is not cute, he’s too big and too tall and too sharp to be _cute_ , and b) eighteen year old boys aren’t meant to be cute anyways. But, having said that, Kageyama…kind of is, right now. His eyes are all shiny and his face is all pink, fringe sticking up in weird messy spikes where his fingers have ruffled it, and Hinata’s chest does something weird and warm and melty at the sight.

“Nothing weird,” he says, “no—no name calling, no ass-fire, just…something a little different.”

Hinata heaves a big sigh, and flops back on the mattress with his arms outstretched.

“Fine,” he says, and the mattress wobbles where Kageyama shifts his weight. Kageyama’s big, hulking frame looms over him, blocking out the overhead light, casting Hinata’s whole face in shadow.

“Pants.”

“Sir, yes sir.”

Hinata unbuttons his jeans and shucks them down his legs, huffing when Kageyama slaps a pillow over his face. Even after two whole years of…of this, of doing _stuff_ , with Kageyama—stuff that involves being fully, actually naked—Hinata is still a little shy as Kageyama’s eyes rove over him. He tugs the hem of his shirt to cover himself and sits up on the mattress.

“On your stomach,” he says, and Hinata pokes out his tongue.

“What’s the magic word?”

“Now.”

Hinata kicks at his thigh with one sock-clad foot, but does as told, flipping to lie on his stomach and holding the hem of his shirt against the backs of his thighs. Kageyama nods, and turns for his bedside cabinet, and as he twists away Hinata catches a weird, wobbly smile bubbling out over his cheeks. Whatever it is he’s got planned, Kageyama is _excited_ about it.

Hinata drops his cheek to the pillows and kicks his legs against the mattress.

“Hurry up,” he whines, listening to Kageyama rifle through his drawer. It’s maybe the most cluttered part of his room, that drawer, full of pens and pencils and papers he doesn’t need, of batteries and tea lights and at least one spent light bulb, but Hinata knows, in amongst all that rubbish, exactly what it is Kageyama is looking for.

“You cleaned before you came here, right?” Kageyama asks, and Hinata hears the drawer slide closed.

“ _Yes_ , don’t _ask_ me that.”

“Just checking, stupid. I don’t wanna go sticking anything up there if—”

“It’s _embarrassing_ ,” Hinata croons, shoving his face in the pillow. Kageyama gives a little snort behind him, and then a big, warm palm settles against his thigh. Hinata jolts, and turns his head.

Kageyama is holding out two spare pillows. He shoves them at him in mid-air, again and again until Hinata leans up on his elbows to take them.

“Put them under your hips,” he says, and _ah_ , Hinata has a decent idea where this is going. Whatever it is, it’s gonna be butt stuff.

Hinata is all soft against the pillows when he settles down on them, ass in the air with his shoulders digging into the bed, but he knows it won’t be all that long before he perks up. Not unless Kageyama is gonna do something _weird_ , which, he supposes, isn’t entirely out of the question. Kageyama’s reassurances aren’t very reassuring at all.

For a little while, Kageyama doesn’t do anything. Hinata keeps his eyes closed and his breathing even, long and slow, and he is maybe getting a little _too_ relaxed, eyes a little too heavy, when Kageyama pushes up the hem of his shirt, and his finger strokes a feather-light line right the way down his back. Hinata jumps, and sucks in a big breath.

Kageyama doesn’t speak, but there’s a little huff of air that might be a laugh and not only does Hinata hear it, he _feels_ it, ghosting right over the skin of his ass. _Oh_. This is where it’s going.

“This,” Hinata breathes, eyelids fluttering as Kageyama continues to dance touches over his skin—from cheek to cheek, down his legs, trailing little flighty paths right up the inside of his thighs, “this isn’t anything new.”

Kageyama shushes him softly, plump, wet lips tickling at the small of his back.

It’s true, Hinata thinks, as Kageyama continues to trace light, mindless patterns over him. This isn’t new; they’ve done it plenty of times before, both Kageyama to him and him to Kageyama, so he isn’t all that convinced today is going to be anything special, but…

But, they’ve never started off like this. And Kageyama seems to have a game plan. 

He’s still just teasing, dancing fingers and misted breaths, tickling close to where Hinata’s wants him, but not close enough.

“Get—” Hinata pauses on a silent whine as Kageyama kisses one of his cheeks, the hot peek of his tongue poking out to taste him, “get on with it.”

Kageyama kisses him again, and his fingers draw a line from Hinata’s back and down, down the cleft of his ass, over his hole and back again.

“This is supposed to be the _fun_ part,” Kageyama says against him. Hinata gives his hips a little impatient wiggle.

“It’ll be more fun when you’re— _ah_ —when you’re…when…”

Hinata trails away, eyes closed in concentration as Kageyama spreads him, blowing a thin stream of hot air right against his hole. It’s hard to _think_ , with Kageyama doing that; it’s good, but it’s not enough, and Hinata finds himself chasing the pleasure of the lightest touches and letting his words die on his tongue.

“When I’m what?” Kageyama says. His voice has done that _thing_ it does, dropped so low it rumbles from his chest like thunder. Hinata chokes out the softest little groan at the sound of it.

“When— _oh_.”

Hinata pushes his hips back against the air Kageyama bleeds over him. He needs more; more heat, more pressure, less tickling and teasing and more _touch_.

Kageyama hums, and wraps a hand around Hinata’s thigh.

“If you want something different,” Kageyama says, and Hinata shudders, “say so.”

Hinata is _trying_. He’s trying to say what he wants—that he wants Kageyama’s lips on him, his tongue, wants him licking and sucking and mouthing him until he is boneless, but the words won’t come. They won’t, because Kageyama won’t stop his weird, hypnotic touches.

“‘Yama,” Hinata slurs, torn between rocking his hips back towards Kageyama’s waiting mouth or down into the pillows cushioning the swell of his cock. “‘Yama, p—please.”

Kageyama trails a line of kisses from one cheek to the other, and drags his lips up to rest against the bottom of Hinata’s back. Hinata twitches, and Kageyama grins against him.

“Please what?”

“Your mouth,” Hinata starts. Kageyama sucks a patch of skin up between his teeth, and Hinata’s back bows up off the mattress. “Kag’yama, your—your mouth, please.”

“You’re gonna have to be more specific.”

Hinata whines and hides his face in the pillow.

“Don’t make me say it,” he groans. Kageyama’s smile grows wider.

“I’m not a _mind reader_ ,” he says, even though Hinata knows that right now, in this moment, he is. He is absolutely a mind reader, and he’d be the blindest person in the world, probably, if he couldn’t see exactly what it is that Hinata wants from him.

“You said—you said you weren’t gonna make me say anything weird,” Hinata breathes, pushing back once more as Kageyama huffs a breath over him.

“Nuh-uh,” Kageyama says, “I said I wouldn’t make you call me anything weird. There’s a difference.”

“Still counts.”

“Does _not_.” Kageyama’s fingers pinch at his thigh and Hinata’s whole body jerks, a tiny little cry slipping past his lips. “You’ve definitely said weirder stuff, c’mon. I’m _stupid_ , aren’t I? You’ve gotta tell me what you want.”

Hinata buries his face in his pillow and screams. He’s frustrated, he’s embarrassed, he just wants Kageyama’s mouth on his ass, playing with his hole; is that really, honestly too much to ask?

“Eat me out,” he grinds out through gritted teeth. Behind him, the mattress shifts, and the steady huffs of Kageyama’s breaths bleed out over his cheeks. Kageyama spreads him slow, a palm on each round pink globe, and licks a long, wet stripe from his balls to the bottom of his back.

“ _Aah_ ,” Hinata sighs, rolling his hips back as Kageyama does it again, and again, before the tip of his tongue focuses little tight circles right against him. “Yes. That’s— _ah_ — _yes._ ”

Kageyama, it seems, has done his research. He works him over in circles, in lines, in wobbly, flickering waves and then he’s _in_ him, narrowing his tongue and slipping past his rim, and Hinata thinks it should be weird, all wet and slimy and _squirmy_ inside him, but it’s all he can do to bite back a whole tumble of moans and groans and instead, he pants into his pillow, and the little sounds that do bleed past his lips are shaky, trembling, wet and thick like sobs at the back of his throat.

It goes on for what feels like _hours_. There is a point somewhere past when Kageyama starts sucking at him, tongue poking and slithering with his lips cupped over him, that Hinata’s brain must short-circuit because everything is…hazy, after that, and he is floating, breathless and shuddering while Kageyama works lazily over him.

Hinata fists at the bedsheets and whimpers into his pillow.

“M—more,” he says, and the words come _pathetic_ from his lips, all cracked and croaky and pitifully desperate. Kageyama’s fingers trail soothing circles on his thighs as his tongue works harder.

Maybe, if he were a little less lost to the feeling of Kageyama’s mouth on him, Hinata would be embarrassed. Embarrassed at every desperate little keen that slips from his throat, at the way he is levering himself back on trembling elbows and shuddering knees, at the wet, sloppy sounds Kageyama is making against his hole—but right now, Hinata doesn’t care.

All he cares about is that tongue, hot and wet and wringing him dry. Hinata stretches a hand behind his back and gropes for Kageyama’s hair.

“I’m c—close,” he gasps, because suddenly he _is_ , teetering so close to the edge he can already feel the fall. Hinata chokes, and grinds his cock down into the pillows. He’s leaking, he can feel it, sticky on the pillowcase and up against his stomach, and with every delve of Kageyama’s tongue his cock jumps on the bedding.

Kageyama squeezes at his thighs and hoists his hips up.

“Stop that,” he says, and Hinata gives a long, high whine, shoving his hips back at Kageyama’s face. “You’re—you’re supposed to come from just this. That’s what the website said.”

“Then g—get on with it.”

Hinata was trying for forceful, he was, but the words come too airy and too desperate. Still, Kageyama obliges, latches his mouth over him once more and rolls his tongue inside him.

“Yes,” Hinata sighs, pushing up against him. “Yes—oh god, oh— _hng—ah_.”

Hinata’s eyes squeeze closed. Kageyama probes deeper, one long, hard lave into him, and Hinata’s whole body clenches. His stomach feels hot, pulled taught, and the breath in his lungs comes raspy.

One of Kageyama’s hands leaves his thigh. It doesn’t touch him anywhere else, but there is a new rhythm to the rock of the mattress; something faster, harsher, and there is a wet slap of skin on skin that isn’t coming from Kageyama’s mouth on his hole.

Hinata didn’t really need an extra push, not with the way his body was winding, coiling like spring, but what finally pushes him over the edge is Kageyama _moaning_.

It’s barely even audible, not above the suck of his tongue and the slap of his fist around his own cock, not above the roar of Hinata’s blood in his ears, but Hinata hears it all the same. He hears it and he _feels_ it, rumbling over him and against him and inside him.

Most times, Hinata is noisy when he comes. All crying pleas and guttural groans but today, he is silent, save for the tiniest catch of breath in the back of his throat as his cock spurts thick ropes over the bedding.

In the haze of his orgasm, Hinata squints over his shoulder to look at Kageyama. He’s got his eyes squeezed all the way closed, face buried from the nose down between Hinata’s cheeks which looks _stupid_ , ridiculous, the silliest thing Hinata has ever _seen_ , but it burns something hot and fuzzy in his chest all the same.

He feels more than sees Kageyama come. His mouth stills against him, and he gives a huffing, breathy groan, and turns to rest his cheek against Hinata’s ass as he catches his breath.

For a long moment, neither of them say anything. They lie in a soft silence, and Hinata tries hard not to think about the sticky wetness drying on his stomach, about the mess of saliva slicking between his legs and about Kageyama, whose face, now that they’re not doing the sex stuff anymore, is entirely too close to his butt.

“Move,” Hinata says, reaching a hand back to shove at Kageyama’s head. Kageyama gives a noncommittal grunt, but he sits back all the same, blinking bleary eyes over Hinata’s back. Hinata squirms his thighs and wrinkles his nose. “I’m all gross.”

“Yeah,” Kageyama says. “Go clean up.”  

“Oi, _bakageyama_! You’re not supposed to agree with me!”

Hinata rolls over onto his back and sits up. He _is_ gross, feels even more so now that he’s sitting up and the post-orgasmic bliss is wearing thin. Kageyama looks him over, and shrugs a shoulder.

“You _are_ gross,” he says. “Not even just now, you’re gross all the time. The most gross.”

“ _Uwaaaaaah_ , ‘Yama, that’s no way to talk to your boyfriend!” Hinata whines. He flops forward, drops all his weight against Kageyama’s chest until the pair of them fall back on the mattress. He wriggles his sticky stomach against Kageyama’s, trapping them together with both arms wrapped tight about his chest. “If I’m gross, you’re gonna be gross with me.”

“Idiot Hinata!” Kageyama pries at his shoulders but Hinata doesn’t budge. Instead, he straddles over his bare lap and sucks a big mouthful of saliva from his cheeks.

“Gross, huh?” He asks through a mouthful of spit.

“Don’t you dare.”

Hinata lets a little dribble out of his mouth to hang from his lips, dangling precariously over Kageyama’s face.

“You’re the most disgusting person,” he says, covering his face with both hands. Hinata sucks the spit back into his mouth and swallows, sitting up straight and crossing his arms over his chest. He isn’t sure how, but he thinks he is probably the winner here.

“You love me anyway,” he says. Kageyama doesn’t respond. He doesn’t, but the skin behind his hands glows cherry red, and he gives the tiniest, most pathetic nod of his head.

It’s _silly_. Hinata has heard Kageyama tell him he loves him before—in so many words and in less, in, “have you eaten your lunch today?” and in, “dumbass, watch the _ball_ ,” and in, “go to _sleep_ already, stupid,”—but there is…there is something about that tiny little nod, and in his rosy pink cheeks and the flaming tips of his ears that squeezes Hinata’s heart so hard it _hurts_.

A pillow smacks against the side of his face, and Hinata topples sideways from his perch.

“Go,” Kageyama says, slapping the pillow down over his own face, “shower.”

“Mhm,” Hinata hums. He is going to shower, the longest, hottest shower ever, probably use up all of Kageyama’s hot water _again_ , maybe finish the last of his shampoo, stand under the spray until he can stand no more, but first…

First, he lifts the pillow off of Kageyama’s face, and he bends low to kiss him.

“I’ve just had my tongue in your ass,” Kageyama breathes, soft and barely-there against the press of Hinata’s lips.

“I’m gross,” Hinata says, “I don’t care.”

Kissing Kageyama is _warm_. It’s probably Hinata’s favourite feeling ever, except maybe spiking a super good set—Kageyama’s lips on his, the hot, wet poke of his tongue, the tickle of breath as he breathes out slow through his nose and the soft, light tease of fingers cupping at the back of his head.

It’s even better when he pulls away, when Kageyama’s head tilts up off the mattress to chase him, but Hinata hops too far out of reach with a cackle at the hazy, bewildered look on Kageyama’s face.

“Oi,” Kageyama says, and his hand makes a meek grab in mid air. “Where d’you think you’re going?”

“To _shower_ ,” Hinata says, and he gives a big, mock sigh as he turns the door handle. “Because my big bully of a boyfriend thinks I’m _gross_.”

**Author's Note:**

> ha ha a mistake I think 
> 
> Thanks in advance for any comments/kudos/bookmarks etc, and as always if you wanna come talk kagehina with me hmu up tumblr dot com @someone-stole-my-shoes okay thank u again


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